SHOUT

I couldn’t keep it to myself this time,

you know how someone gets when they see a pretty face.

I try to curb myself when these feelings come, telling myself:

Beauty is only skin deep.

It rarely goes any further.

But that was the first thing I noticed,

her skin; smooth and exotic, like a Terra Cotta vase.

I couldn’t resist this one.

At first I kept my distance,

I harden my nerves each day until I finally had the courage to ask her.

She refused.

I didn’t complain.

A woman who causes a chase is a keeper after all.

It took some time, but I caught up with her,

and she gave me a chance.

The relationship, in the beginning, had a few cuts and bruises here and there,

yet an intimacy bloomed from the intentions I planted upon that skin.

A garden I wasn’t planning to harvest so soon.

Now, I’m not one to rush into things, but she insisted and I complied.

Once again, I didn’t complain.

I enjoyed seeing her hairs stand on end; feeling the little bumps

that scattered her arms. She didn’t need her shouts

to exhibit her stimulation, her body told me everything.

It excited me.

Though I do admit I didn’t enjoy the rowdiness too much, or the mess.

It soon didn’t matter, I had what I wanted.

Though, weeks later, I almost regret taking it from her.

I don’t mind sharing my bed or my closet with her,

but it is a bore when she just lays or hangs there.

I certainly miss those lips stretching into a smile, or nervousness; now they just kind of… hang open in astonishment.

Our relationship isn’t as fun as it was before.

She’s so stiff now.

How degrading.

I didn’t think it would end this soon, I loved

every second of what we had, but even the deepest

of feelings sometimes dry like a cracked lip.

I’m so disappointed, I have to throw her away,

because her terra cotta skin looks a bit grey.